Categories
Life

Words Are Not BIG Enough

The room glowed orange. And LOVE. A wooden carving of the word sat against the wall in my room, opposite my meditation cushion, on top of a painting of my favourite tree (the letters light up if I really want them to. I very rarely want them to.)

I’ve become increasingly frustrated with words and their inability to capture and express the absolute truth of the concepts they frame. Love is one of the best examples of that, for me.

Love, for instance, is on a spectrum, for starters. There are differing types of love, differing levels of depth, differing levels of understanding of it as a concept, differing levels of experience with it.

And here is the problem I have: LOVE, the word, is far too small.

It is too small to capture

and hold

the vast ocean

that love

truly

is

to me.

So I get a little frustrated.

Words, in general, are a little frustrating to me, because even people we share a language with will never know the exact meaning of a word according to our perception and expression of it.

An example. I experienced the most profound moment the other day, when discussing some things with my beautiful, spiritual counsellor. She is trying to help me work through some of my energy blocks, at the moment, but as we discussed a particular topic I found myself fumbling. I knew exactly why.

Words. They were vastly limiting us in a few ways: one way being our different perception of particular words (it seemed we weren’t quite on the same page). Another being the energy beneath the concept I was trying to express. The whole thing seemed far bigger than any means of communication we had in our toolbox to discuss it with. It was as if we were trying to catch a whale with a plastic fishing rod. It was just never going to happen.

I even said to her that I felt so frustrated because I couldn’t possibly express the depth of what I was trying to convey to her in words. This was a feeling. But it was also something so much more than a feeling.

I don’t need to capture the entire universe and express it in form. But if I did…words couldn’t possibly reach the heights I’d need to climb to pick that apple.

I wonder if there is any human tool that could.

I wonder a lot of things, actually.

Perhaps I’ll keep wondering.

Photo by Kendall Hoopes on Pexels.com

Categories
Life

What In The World?

Well. Isn’t the world in an interesting state. That’s more of a statement, rather than a question, really, isn’t it: hence the absence of a question mark.

I’ve been wondering if perhaps humanity, as a collective, might be going through the same sort of life stage as me. Sifting through all the nonsense, trying to figure out which pieces to keep, and which pieces to shiny up and multiply. Trying to figure it all out, really, and will we? Can life be figured out? What actually is a state of figured out? I don’t think any of us knows, which is probably why we’re all in a bit of a collective pickle stew, at the moment.

It interests me to no end, this state we find ourselves in: us versus them, such massive divides, each heart believing their own is the ultimate truth. It’s fascinating because it has me asking questions I really don’t think can be answered in a black and white sort of way. Where once I would have declared a certain type of opinion ‘wrong’, a certain type of person ‘wrong’, I’m finding it impossible to do so, these days.

How can one side say the other is wrong entirely when there is a fifty- fifty split in opinion: half believing one thing, the other half believing another? It makes me wonder if people might open up to the grand possibility that, perhaps, no one is right.

Perhaps we all just are.

Sometimes pleasant experiences arise from us simply being as we are.

And sometimes complete and utter chaos reigns, and quite frankly, disturbs a great deal of the beautiful many of us so cherish about life here on earth. Perhaps it’s a little like a bush fire. In order to see those beautiful new sprouts of green peeping through the forest floor, first the old trees must burn.

Who on earth knows what’s going on.

Who on earth (and all the planets) knows.

Photo by Alina Vilchenko on Pexels.com
Categories
Poetry

Asking Questions

It is not the darkness

of others

I fear.

It is my own

crimson need

to mould the world

into a shape

that cannot possibly exist,

or remain.

Perfection is rigid,

solid,

stiff.

Life

is the ever flowing river

of everything,

everyone,

every way.

Broken?

Unbroken?

Right?

Wrong?

There is nothing

but life asking questions.

And answering them

as it will.

Categories
Poetry

Dreams

Will I always dream of life beyond the creaky bones of now?

The other side of the hill will call again, no doubt, whispering: this is what your life could be.

And though my heart is full, will I always dream of something more?

Of the life beyond the life?

The echo of the here.

The shadow of the now.

Dreams are always somewhere else, aren’t they?In a place that doesn’t exist.

Shall I creep towards that place, knowing there is no destination?

Knowing the birth of a dream will only end it and call forth the birth a new one?

Knowing the dream train will never ever reach the station?

Categories
Life

Somewhere Else

Hello my lovely bloggy friends,

I hope you’re all coping with whatever your COVID situation looks like. I have been. And I haven’t. But I’m still noticing small wins along the way, which make me feel a little better about the whole ‘life can be so completely shitty sometimes,’ thing.

I’ve been so proud of my growth in awareness, for example. And where I still flail around like a tiny fish in a way too big swimming pool more times than I’d wish, I’m giving myself this one beautiful moment.

A great big YES to all the NO I often tell myself.

So much of my personal growth and power have come from the moments I’ve seen, and owned, the ways I’ve been a bit of a (total) nong. It’s so nice to imagine the new possibilities these growth spurts are likely bringing towards me.

Of course, I’ll always be human. We all will. And it would be foolish to think that growing pains will never arise within my wonky little human boat, again.

But I’m on my way, and I’m so glad I’ve got the sweetest bloggy family to hang out with along the road to…somewhere else.

Categories
Life

Beneath It All

Beneath it all, there is a human.

Surely to be human is to share our world with others, and to find ourselves in their worlds, too.

We get so lost beneath things that are not real.

The stories we create to make life more.

But no story—not a day on the moon, not a night among the stars—will ever compare to the authentic moments of you.

My fellow humans.

When my soul meets yours and I say:

I see you. I really do see you. And it’s okay. And I love you.

That’s all there is, surely.

Surely, that is all there truly is.

people gathering together on cold sea beach for picnic
Photo by ArtHouse Studio on Pexels.com

Categories
Life

This Quiet Place

I’m feeling a little tender, today.

It’s a lovely feeling, don’t get me wrong. Soft and sweet, like a warm rainy day. It’s a feeling I’ve sat with at various points over the last few years, a new softness that has grown into me like the sweetest of dreams.

It’s just…it’s an aching quiet, actually, is what it is.

A middle land. A place for me to live within the beauty of this moment, a place to also feel the absence of the hearts and souls that bring me to life. How beautiful it is to connect with souls who fill you with life itself. How beautiful it is to love them. If only I could bottle them and keep them with me always.

I’ll never regret a moment of this winding life.

The aches that have held me so firmly in place some days, the internal fights that have cracked me open. The surrender. It’s all a part of it, isn’t it? This life we all try so hard to control— there is no controlling it. Even if we could catch the wind in a jar…how could we possibly know it was in there?

I am handing you this small patch of quiet in the hopes you might pin it to your heart, or your soul, or somewhere nice. That the soft of me might bring you some comfort, or friendship, or whatever it is that might be missing for you in this moment.

To those friends I am missing: I love you. You are a part of me.

To those I will never meet again, it was sweet. (Or not. Just sayin’)

And to the parts of me that are magically brewing in some invisible place, waiting to be seen and known and touched: I am here.

I will wait.

In this quiet place, I will wait.

woman wearing brown shirt inside room
Photo by Felipe Cespedes on Pexels.com

 

 

Categories
Life

Nothing Is Certain

Nothing is certain.

I fight that feeling, everyday.

The knowing that I don’t know the answers.

And probably never will.

So, I suppose, then

that some things

are certain

after all.